Chapter 8: The Dragon of Degeneration

**Chapter 7: The Invisible One, Zhu Mingliang...**

The city of Zulong stood proudly upon a vast, fertile plain, cradled by three winding rivers born from distant snow-capped mountains. They flowed like silver veins across countless villages, towns, and ancient fortresses, converging finally at the heart of the city—Zulong City-State, a place of steel-gray grandeur and silent power.

Split in two by a towering, solemn wall of silver-gray stone, the city was defined by its most awe-inspiring feature: that wall itself. As soon as Zhu Mingliang soared into the sky above this ink-blue plain, it felt as though he’d witnessed the slumbering form of an ancient earth dragon—primordial, immense, stretching along the horizon like a relic from the world’s first breath.

*"They say Zulong was formed from the body of the First Dragon. Now I see it… not a myth after all,"* Zhu Mingliang thought, his voice quiet in his mind.

But for Li Yunzhi, seeing the city brought no relief. If anything, her chest tightened further. The thought of facing those who knew her—those who had once looked up to her, or worse, judged her—made her breath catch in her throat.

"You don’t need to worry about that matter, Miss Yunzhi," Luo Xiao said softly, as if reading her thoughts. "I’ve taken care of everyone involved."

She didn’t answer.

After a moment, she composed herself. Her eyes, once clouded with doubt, regained their usual cold, star-like stillness—icy, distant, like moonlight on frost. She simply said, “Let’s go.”

---

**The Li Family, Southern Clan.**

For generations, these two noble houses had ruled Zulong City-State with iron grip and unshakable prestige. When Zhu Mingliang heard the name *War Goddess*, he immediately understood her lineage.

No wonder she’d managed to hold onto Yongcheng for a full year amidst the chaos of the Wutu Wastes. Her roots ran deep—too deep for any ordinary explanation.

But then… why had she fallen so suddenly?

He’d escorted her through danger after danger, heart pounding every step of the way. The mission was over. But now, Zhu Mingliang couldn’t leave—not yet.

The Li Imperial Court was magnificent, opulent beyond words. Yet they weren’t returning in triumph. Not today.

Three figures stood in silence within a vast hall adorned with pearwood carvings. Zhu Mingliang and Luo Xiao stood several paces behind Li Yunzhi, who stood rigidly before the high throne. On it sat an elderly man with a long, thin beard—lean, sharp-eyed, radiating authority. Beside him, a woman of refined grace poured tea with delicate hands.

"Master, please don’t be angry. At least she’s safe back home," the woman murmured gently.

Then—*crack!*—the teacup shattered against the floor.

Sharp porcelain shards flew outward, scattering around Li Yunzhi’s feet. One struck the marble floor, ricocheted, and sliced cleanly across her cheek. A thin line of crimson bloomed instantly.

Yet she didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

“If any of our own children had been raised under our teachings,” the man said, voice flat, emotionless, “they would have chosen a shrine and ended it themselves. That would’ve saved you… and saved us some dignity.”

“Master,” Luo Xiao stammered, disbelief in his voice, “I burned Yongcheng to the ground. How could news of this reach the city so fast?”

“*You* speak?” The Li Patriarch turned sharply, eyes like daggers.

Luo Xiao dropped to his knees instantly, head bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. Even a man as ruthless and ambitious as him trembled at the mere presence of the Li master—fear rooted deep in his bones.

“You can’t even protect your own honor,” the patriarch snapped. “How do you expect to defend this city, surrounded on all sides by enemies?”

Li Yunzhi remained silent.

Her silence only fueled his rage.

But then, slowly, the anger receded—replaced by something colder, more calculating.

“Regardless,” the woman beside him said quietly, “Yunzhi has earned many victories for the city. She expanded our borders. Her command still commands respect—even if her name is now stained.”

“Respect?” The patriarch scoffed. “There is no respect left. And every soldier beneath her banner shares in her shame. From this day forward, the title *War Goddess* is erased. Her troops will be scattered among other regiments, posted to the western front. The successor to the Zulong Divine Maiden line will be Nan Lingsha. And you—Li Yunzhi—will be confined to the palace. No visitors. No contact. Ever.”

His voice held no warmth. Only finality.

“Master,” the woman hesitated, “Nan Lingsha is still young. This might affect her too… Perhaps we should recall her?”

“Nan Lingsha is Nan Lingsha,” the patriarch cut in coldly. “Li Yunzhi is Li Yunzhi. Anyone who dares link the two will have their tongue torn out—no matter their rank.” His gaze hardened. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied, bowing her head.

Then, finally, the patriarch turned his attention to Luo Xiao.

“Luo Xiao.”

“Your servant stands ready,” Luo Xiao whispered, trembling.

“Your dragon… is a Golden Flame Dragon?”

A flicker of surprise crossed the woman’s face. “Golden Flame? That’s a rare breed—capable of ascending to Dragon Lord status. Bloodline and affinity both top-tier. If he proves loyal…”

“A rare treasure indeed,” the patriarch said, tone shifting slightly. “I never expected you to find such fortune after leaving the Li family. You did well. Let the refugees of the Wasteland know—no one touches a Li without paying the price.”

“I made a mistake long ago,” Luo Xiao said, voice thick with regret. “I was cast out. But my heart has always belonged to the Li clan. When I became a Dragon Tamer, I happened to be training in the Wasteland. When I learned of Miss Yunzhi’s suffering, I rushed to her aid—but too late. Please, Master, do not blame her. It was my hesitation. I should have destroyed the surrounding towns too. Then none would have known.”

His words dripped with loyalty—so sincere it almost hurt.

The patriarch nodded. He approved. A man who could burn cities without hesitation? That was the kind of loyalty he valued.

“You’ll serve under me now,” he said. “The Golden Flame Dragon is a beast of great potential. But it needs resources. Guidance. If you remain faithful, I promise—you will shine brighter than any star.”

“Thank you, Master! Thank you!” Luo Xiao cried, slamming his forehead into the floor again and again. Tears welled in his eyes.

*Shine brighter than any star.*

That was all he’d ever wanted.

Not some dusty, forgotten outpost where he’d rule as a Dragon Lord among sand and dust. No—he wanted glory. Power. The dazzling, endless splendor of Zulong City-State—the true center of the world.

---

Zhu Mingliang had rehearsed dozens of ways to respond to the Li Patriarch’s icy questions in his head. He’d crafted excuses, half-truths, vague answers—all designed to hide his identity.

And then he realized…

They hadn’t even looked at him.

Not once.

Not a word. Not a glance.

It hit him like a slap.

Once, long ago, so many people had pointed at him and said, *“This boy has a celestial face. He’ll rise to greatness.”*

Now? After years of wandering, surviving, hiding… he was nothing.

Just invisible.

Plain. Unseen. Forgotten.

And somehow… that hurt more than any blade.